


Rock My World

by spookyawards_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-31
Updated: 2005-12-31
Packaged: 2019-04-28 04:41:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14441592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookyawards_archivist/pseuds/spookyawards_archivist
Summary: "It's a terrible feeling to know we had to uselines from a silly movie like that one to express the most important sentiments of our lives."





	Rock My World

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Spooky Awards](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Spooky_Awards), and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [SpookyAwards' collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/spookyawards/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** SMUT-FIC  
>  DISCLAIMER: They certainly aren't mine; if they were, they'd be having more fun, and I wouldn't have to save up  
> for vacations! Mulder and Scully belong to FOX Networks and 1013; I'm just borrowing them for a little fun and  
> games.I promise I'll bring them back on time and unharmed. and they won't remember a thing, more's the pity.

  
Author's notes: SMUT-FIC  
DISCLAIMER: They certainly aren't mine; if they were, they'd be having more fun, and I wouldn't have to save up  
for vacations! Mulder and Scully belong to FOX Networks and 1013; I'm just borrowing them for a little fun and  
games.I promise I'll bring them back on time and unharmed. and they won't remember a thing, more's the pity.  


* * *

He picks me up outside the office; he likes to joke about how I'm the only doctor he doesn't fear with an unreasoning terror, but in fact he has never willingly submitted himself to anyone else's care but mine. He never comes inside the doctor's office. 

No, I take that back. He went to the oncologist with me: whenever I needed to be there, so was he, unless I lied to him and told him I was going somewhere else. 

Today's trip was to the gynecologist. He stayed outside. He had found an internet hotspot near the medical center and could amuse himself for hours with his laptop there. I never feel guilty about leaving him like that. 

This time I was only inside for about ninety-five minutes: a little less than usual. I was barely down the stairs when his car pulled up at the curb. 

"Hey, sweetheart; wanna ride?" 

"I don't know," I temporize. "Can you afford me?" 

"What do you charge?" He's grinning at me, his eyes sparkling. 

"Want to find out?" I challenge him. 

"I've got credit cards; I'm willing to risk 'em." He leans across the car and pushes open the passenger-side door for me. I climb in. "Hungry?" he asks. 

I nod. "Yes, please. No fast food, though. China plates and fabric napkins, please." 

"I think I can manage that," he allows. 

* * *

Dinner is pleasant if not memorable; we've eaten in so many restaurants over the years that a meal has to reach extremes to stand out. 

That accomplished, he turns the car toward my apartment. 

"No movie?" I ask. We had made our plans while still at the office. 

He throws a glance at me, startled. "I'm sorry. I forgot." 

"You can't forget." I know that's not precisely true --there is more than one kind of memory--but I'm just teasing and he knows it. 

"All right," he concedes. "I was distracted." 

"By what?" It's not like I haven't noticed his preoccupation. 

"I'm thinking about how much I despise Dr DeFazio." 

I'm shocked. "Mulder! Whyever would you not like Danny DeFazio?" I see his knuckles whiten on the steering wheel. 

"Never mind. It's not important." 

If he thinks I'm letting him get away with a statement like that, he's crazy. "Mulder, I don't understand." 

"What's not to understand?" he asked. 

He's clearly deflecting; he doesn't want to answer me. "Mulder. You can't make a pejorative statement like that and not explain yourself. You've never even met Dr DeFazio. How can you dislike him?" 

"I shouldn't have said it. I apologize. I retract the statement." 

The conversation lapses when we get to the theater. The movie is a silly science fiction exercise in special effects about alien life arriving via meteor impact and evolving from single cells to problem-solving simianoid beings in less than a month. What makes me uncomfortable are the parallels I see between my partner and myself and the lead characters in the film. 

The male lead looks a lot like Mulder, though he smiles more. The female lead doesn't look like me, but she has red hair, blue eyes and a degree in medicine. He embraces the silliness, she doubts and wants scientific proof. 

Then, just before they make their scientifically-silly attempt to destroy the alien with shampoo, she turns to the Mulder lookalike and, clearly expecting failure and death, tells him she would have rocked his world. 

He turns to her and smiles gently, a smile that makes my toes curl as I watch because he looks so much like my partner just then, and he tells her that she already has. 

I choke back a sob. Would I ever have the courage to tell Mulder that clearly how I feel? In the film these two have only known each other for a month. 

I've been partnered with Mulder for years and I've been in love with him for most of that time. Yet I've never told him. I've betrayed myself to him, certainly, more than once, I'm sure... but he's never called me on it, never confronted me... 

...never made any such admission of his own. I think we're stuck and we are each waiting for the other to admit it first. 

Suddenly I have a totally incongruous thought: does he despise my gynecologist because my gynecologist is male and has had physical contact with me that Mulder has not? 

Is Mulder jealous of my gynecologist? If so, why? 

Not jealous, exactly; more a case of resenting that Danny De Fazio has seen and touched what Mulder never has? Because Mulder wants to but doesn't dare try for it for whatever reason(s)? 

Somehow my resolve firms: I believe I've finally decided to make my declaration to him. He holds the door and ushers me through with the familiar hand on my back; as we walk toward the car I'm trying to find words that don't sound forced or trite or artificial... and I'm failing. Maybe I'm really overthinking this... 

I wait until we're both seated in the car and turn to him. "Mulder, I..." 

Our eyes meet and my voice fails me. He's so beautiful in the slanted lights from the front of the theater that I'm dazzled, struck dumb. 

He smiles faintly, more with his eyes than his mouth, and reaches out with one hand to cup my jaw and stroke my cheek with his thumb. 

"You already have, Scully. You already have." 

My eyes fill with tears and I turn my head to kiss his palm. "I was trying to find the words." 

His smile brightens a little. "Words aren't what you're best at," he says softly. "And we're neither of us good at sharing our true feelings, even with each other." 

"It's a terrible feeling to know we had to use lines from a silly movie like that one to express the most important sentiments of our lives." 

That makes him chuckle. "I guess that makes it our movie, Scully. Like other couples have their personal songs...? We have our movie." 

"How Nineties," I comment dryly. 

His hand is still on my face. He turns a little to face me squarely. He opens his mouth to speak and I lean in and kiss him. 

Oh, this is so good... I feel as if I've been starving my entire life for this. His other hand comes up and I feel enveloped by him: his hands, long-fingered and strong, gently enclose my entire skull. My body melts against him, feeling my breasts soft against the hard flat muscles and bone of his chest. My arms try to hold him but I can't really move except to rock my pelvis against him. My knees fall away from one another and I can smell my arousal. 

Mulder moans into my mouth and I know he smells it, too. "Scully..." 

"Hmm..." 

He pushes me far enough away that he can see my face. "Your place or mine?" 

He's not just asking for my choice of venue; he's asking if that's what I want. The tone is totally different. 

"Whichever's closer." 

He smiles, kisses me again all-too-briefly, and then resolutely lets go of me and turns away to face the steering wheel. I face front, too, feeling my racing pulse, the flush of arousal reluctantly subsiding. We're facing at least another half-hour in the car, and if we don't keep our hands off one another, we'll never make it. 

* * *

We're walking up the sidewalk toward my door when Mulder suddenly stops. When his hand loses contact with my back I turn to see what the problem is. 

"Scully...?" 

"Mulder, I don't have a problem with talking to you," I interrupt him. "But let's go inside. I'll make coffee." 

"Okay." 

Once inside he's restless, pacing. I'm getting nervous: is he having second thoughts already? 

"Mulder, stop." 

He freezes, then turns to face me, so tense I'm afraid to speak for fear he'll shatter. If he could say this, however, he would have, by now. So it's clearly up to me. 

"Mulder, what's the matter? When we got into the car everything was wonderful. We crossed a line we've been tiptoeing along side for many years and found that we both feel the same way. What's bothering you so?" 

"Scully...?" He takes a deep breath, visibly trying to steady himself. "Scully, neither of us were planning anything like this. Are you sure this is what you want?" 

"Am I sure you are what I want?" I correct his phrasing. "Absolutely, Mulder. I've known it for a long time but I was afraid to broach the subject until today. I don't know why." 

He actually shudders. "Scully, this is insane. You can't want me... not like that!" 

"Do you want me?" 

He does not even try to reply to that in words; the expression on his face is heartbreaking. 

"Then why would you think I can't love you?" I hope my tone sounds gentle. I want it to be. 

He looks away, turns away, his arms wrapped around his body. "No one loves me, Scully. It's too dangerous. Everyone I've ever loved is dead." 

That's... I consider for a moment. That's entirely possible. Except... 

"Phoebe Greene's not dead." 

He flinches. "I never loved her. Scully, we can't do this. I can't live without you in my life, but..." 

"But you don't love me?" 

His mouth opens but nothing comes out. 

"Tell me the truth, Mulder. That's all I ever want." 

Whatever else he is, one thing I am sure of is that Fox Mulder is the bravest man I've ever known. He turns toward me, squares his shoulders and finds the wherewithal with which to smile at me, however tremulously. 

"I love you desperately, Scully, and I have for years. I always hoped you knew, and I was willing to wait for you to decide when or if there were to be any changes. If you had decided to leave I would have honored your decision but I don't know how I would have carried on." 

He walks toward me, comes to stand close in front of me, well within my reach. "I've been fantasizing about consummating this relationship for years. I think... I think I'm having trouble really accepting that it's really going to happen so suddenly." 

I smile and reach for his hands. "This isn't sudden, Mulder. I've loved you for years. I'm not sure when I fell but I have fallen. Now that we've finally admitted it to one another, why should we not consummate this relationship?" 

He looks sheepish but he's smiling again, so I'm happier. "It just feels rushed, Scully. We've never even been on a date! I've never wined you and dined you..." 

"And sixty-nined you?" I finish the rhyme watching his eyes. They dilate as if on cue, and I smile. I turned him on that easily! "Mulder, we've shared meals and paperwork, thousands of miles in cars and planes and whatever... why in heavens name would we need to date?! There's only one thing we don't know about each other..." 

There's a moment of delicious anticipation and then he leans in and we kiss again, finally. I reach for him and find myself enclosed in his arms. 

This is a familiar sensation; he has held me like this before. My mind goes skidding backward to the hospital in Allentown where I submitted to experimental treatment for my cancer from the disreputable Dr Scanlon and Mulder came to do what he could to help me. 

Our kiss falters and breaks as my eyes fill with tears and I have to fight not to cry. He lets go, tries to back away. 

"What's the matter?" His voice betrays him: I've unnerved him. "Scully, what's wrong?!" 

I tighten my hold on him; I won't let him go. "The last time you held me like this was in Allentown." 

Recollection clears away some of his confusion but he still doesn't relax. "I'm sorry. I don't like to recall those days; I can't imagine those memories make you happy, either..." 

"Mostly not," I agree. "But I've dreamed of that hug for years." 

He swallows hard. "You dreamed about it?" 

I nod. "I used that memory to settle myself to sleep for months; I still use it. Surely you've dreamed about me..." 

He avoids eye contact. "Rarely in any way I'd ever be comfortable in sharing with you." 

That's an opening I could not have anticipated! I grin up at him. "You fantasized about me and you don't want to share? Even if I want to help you fulfill a few of those fantasies?" 

His entire body shuddered. "Oh, my God..." he groaned. 

"C'mon. I'm nervous, too: maybe with some sort of script we'll both be able to relax a little." 

"Improvisation not one of your best skills?" 

He recovered fast. I shake my head. "No, and you know that." 

"I do," he nodded. "C'mon. I know we can do better than standing here in the kitchen." 

He takes my hand and leads me into my bedroom. 

* * *

My bedroom is dark. Rather than turn on the lights, I go to the window and adjust the blinds, letting in some of the light from the street and parking lot lights. My room is done in whites and creams, primarily, so a little light goes a long way. When I turn, Mulder is a tall dark shape standing between the bed and the door, which he closed behind him. 

We don't need to speak. He can't see my face; I'm backlit by the window. I can see him. He's watching me with the same intensity that he gives to evidence and suspects: unwavering, total focus. 

I shiver. This is one of those things about my partner that both attracts and unnerves me: his ability to focus completely. I know that he's not thinking about baseball or paying his bills, politics or even the aliens. He's only thinking about me. 

My fingers move of their own volition and I start unbuttoning my blouse. 

He starts unbuttoning his shirt. 

We mirror one another as we strip: shirt and blouse, pants and skirt, bra and tee shirt, all done in complete silence as our eyes stay locked on one another. He toes off his socks, which I find amusing. I sit down on the bed to roll off my thigh-highs and he moves for the first time to approach. 

He drops gracefully to kneel before me and moves my hands aside. He takes over the task of removing my hose, and I lie back, braced on my elbows, to watch. 

His hands are infinitely gentle, extraordinarily cautious as he rolls the hose down my thighs. His dark head drops and I have a moment of anticipation before I feel his lips on my skin. He kisses lightly, drily, randomly, inside my thighs and, as they are bared, on my knees. The kisses follow his hands as the hose roll down and he kisses my toes as he drops the nylons to the floor. 

I flinch; I'm ticklish there. He doesn't laugh; he just starts back up my legs, kissing and stroking with those big warm hands. This time he doesn't hesitate but goes right up to my panties. 

He pauses there, peering at my face over the expanse of my belly, and he deliberately inhales deeply. I can smell my arousal; as close to the source as he is, the scent must be overpowering. He is clearly affected: his eyes drift closed for a few moments and his focus shifts inward. 

Then he shakes it off and opens his mouth. I expect a kiss on or near my navel, but instead he takes hold of the waistband of my panties and starts to tug them down. 

It's maddening. He's moving in such a leisurely way, tugging the elastic band down only an inch or so and then moving to another spot. His hands are huge and stronger than I often realize as he rolls me from side to side and lifts me right off the mattress so he can reach all round the waistband. I feel small and cherished and his lips brushing against my skin, his nose nudging me. 

We frequently find ourselves enjoying a mutually comfortable silence in our daily lives, but this silence is different. This one is hypnotic. We aren't using words because words would be superfluous if there even are words that could adequately address what I'm feeling... his breath caressing me and deep in his throat a low sound that can only be a purr. 

I find that I am breathless with need and that my knees have fallen away from one another of their own volition. Mulder moves up a bit and I realize he has disposed of my panties and I never noticed. He's naked, too: I can feel the unbridled heat of him as he looms over me. 

He bends down to kiss me and I cling to him, my body rocking demandingly against him. He wraps me up in his arms and pulls me tightly against his hard body. I expect to be tumbled onto the mattress beneath him, but the world spins in unexpected directions. 

When I focus again, he's sitting in the middle of the bed and I'm sitting facing him. His knees are on either side of my body and my legs are draped over his thighs. His erection is pinned between us and I shiver as I feel it nudging wetly at the undersides of my breasts. 

His eyes meet mine and hold me again, as fascinated as a bird is by a snake. 

"Your move," is all he says. 

His hands are on my back for support; I put mine on his shoulders and rise up onto my knees. That moves my body against his, and he nuzzles at my breasts. I pause to indulge him and he does not disappoint, giving each of the girls all the attention they could want. Finally, panting, I can't wait any longer, and I stand taller on my knees. He tips his face up to watch mine. My eyes capture his as I move a little forward and lower myself a little, until his erection finds its target. 

I stop. 

He shudders from head to foot but does not move or speak. 

Slowly, letting his arms support me, I lower myself, impale myself. My eyes close as I concentrate on what I'm doing and I hear him speak. The words susurrate around me like the smell of us does, surrounding me in what we are becoming. 

"Look at me." He exhales the words. 

My eyes obey without my conscious decision to do so: most of me is preoccupied. I'm being penetrated, taken... and it's all my own doing. I've been sinking down onto that intruder since time out of mind... but now, finally, I've encompassed it all. I'm sitting in his lap and I could not be any closer to him. 

I shudder at the very thought. I can feel him deep inside me, hot and hard, I know he's leaking and as wet as I am. My eyes are still held by his but now I can see him. 

His eyes are black, his pupils blasted open with surging lust that I can feel rolling off him in waves of heat. I can see myself reflected in his eyes and I look besotted, drunk, my mouth open and my lips slack, my eyes only partially open, unfocussed and glassy, because sight is the least important sense just now. 

"Move," I plead quietly. 

"No," he replies just as softly. "I don't need to. Just feel me, Scully, deep inside you. Finally I'm where I belong. I feel you all around me, hot, surrounding me, holding me..." 

"You're huge," I whine. 

He does not smile. "You're petite. This is my fantasy, Scully: being a part of you. I never want to forget what this feels like." 

He has to shift slightly to maintain his balance and I tighten my grip on him to compensate. We shudder in unison at the excitement that sings through us, but it keeps happening. 

"Can you feel it, Scully? It's coming. We're coming..." 

And I can feel it. Deep inside me, my muscles are trying to compensate for the giant invader, and the invader shudders each time I breathe. 

I shudder and clutch at his shoulders. I can feel flames licking at me. I'm sitting in a fire and it's getting hotter with each breath. We hold each other tightly, never breaking eye contact. The flames are rising... rising... 

"Ohh... I'm floating on the flames..." I whisper, awestruck at the sensation. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before. 

"I've got you," he promises breathlessly. He tightens his grip on my body and I feel him beginning to rock his hips a bit, to thrust shallowly at me. I wrap my legs tightly around him and rock with him. 

I pull myself up his body, needing a kiss, feeling him withdraw from me as I do... only to have him put his hands on my shoulders and pull me back down, hard, slamming himself back inside me. I wail as my body begins to shake. I realize I'm panting, desperately pleading, mindlessly needing the fulfillment that I can feel growing. I do it again, and he slams me back down again. 

And again. And again... And then... 

I scream as white flame blinds me. I cling to him as, screaming, he pumps what feels like blazing napalm into me and what feels like the backwash of the sun takes everything that I am. Humans were never meant to feel this... 

The darkness is almost a relief. 

* * *

One of us managed to get hold of the blanket but I have no memory of it. The last thing I remember was the world exploding around me in an orgasm that was more like a supernova than something organic. I'm actually surprised I survived it. 

I'm warm, snuggled neatly under Mulder's chin. His arm is lying limply over my waist and we're cocooned under the blanket. I can smell us and it's wonderful. I nestle closer and he shifts to accommodate me, tightening his grip on me. 

"You awake?" he rumbles in my ear. 

"Sorta," I admit. "How long did we sleep?" 

He lifts his head a bit to see the clock. "Four hours or so." 

My stomach is shocked and rumbles restlessly. 

He chuckles. "Is that a hint?" 

I sigh. "I guess. Good thing we're at my place. There's food here." 

He releases me when I move to get up, and we realize we're both a sticky mess. Our eyes meet and my rueful grin meets his merry one. 

"Shower, m' lady?" he suggests. 

"Good idea." 

He leans forward to kiss me and when our lips meet I forget all about food. Our tongues meet and rub against one another and conscious thought deserts me. I wrap my arms and legs around him and find him ready and willing. 

He slides inside me with a long low moan and I climax before he's halfway home; it's just too good. He thrusts again, quickly falls into a rhythm that reduces me to mindless quivering need. The tension builds and builds; I shift a little sideways so I can use my foot to tickle him, but the movement itself is enough to set him off. 

He pounds into me roughly, clearly no longer capable of restraint, and then he's coming, and I'm coming, and our voices actually harmonize. This is so, so good...! 

Centuries later, I awaken to the realization that he collapsed on top of me: he's still on me, still in me... if I concentrate, I can still feel him twitching a bit, so I was out for only moments. He stirs a little and I lift my knees to trap him there. 

"Aren't I too heavy for you?" he asks groggily. 

"Never." 

He relaxes again, laying his head on the pillow beside me. Between the two of us, we manage to relocate the blankets, and we pull them up and snuggle under them once again. 

"Aren't you still hungry?" he murmurs, one hand lazily stroking my hip. 

"After that? I'm totally sated. Sleep, Mulder." 

There's a moment of silence and I think he's fallen asleep. 

"You rocked my world, Scully. Again. Thanks." 

I kiss my fingertip and press the kiss to his nose. "And you rocked mine. Get some sleep so we can do it again." 

He falls asleep grinning. 

So do I.

#### If you enjoyed this story, please feed the author.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Title: **Rock My World**  
Author: Wylfcynne  
Details: 22k  ·  NC-17  ·  Standalone  ·  12/31/05  ·   Email/Website      
Gossamer Category(Keywords): Story   [Sex (PWP)]     
Characters: Mulder, Scully     
Pairings: Mulder/Scully   
SPOILERS: None   
SUMMARY: "It's a terrible feeling to know we had to use   
lines from a silly movie like that one to express the most important sentiments of our lives." 


End file.
